


late bloomer

by plapcat



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha!Otabek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Rated E for later chapters, Slow Burn, beta!yuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 02:09:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9413093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plapcat/pseuds/plapcat
Summary: As far as the world goes, betas are expected to fade into the background, a footnote to be ignored. When Yuri Plisetsky, one of the highest-ranking competitive figure skaters of his generation, presents as a beta, he must come to terms with his status and find a way to conquer it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> there's so few works that deal with betas as something other than background characters--i just wanted to write something that developed them a bit more. i've done very little work with a/b/o aus before, so i kinda guessed with a lot of this stuff lmao.

There was a lot of pressure on Yuri Plisetsky to present as an alpha. He came from a long line of them; his mother was an Alpha, as was his grandfather. His father, surprisingly, had been an omega, completely subservient to the dominating Plisetsky woman, to the point of taking her last name. Yuri’s two half-siblings, significantly older than him, had also presented as alphas, much to their mother’s approval.

There wasn’t an exact date to when one presented. Despite his family’s wishes, he did _not_ present when he was sixteen (the average age), nor the following year. It got to the point where, frustrated, he took to the internet, trawling through online boards and scowling during the wee hours of the morning.

“How old were you?” he asked one night, staring at the screen. Otabek Altin, the only person he could ever consider a friend, frowned back. The gesture came a moment too late, bad internet making the image lag. The Kazakh’s words didn’t match up to his lips when he spoke.

“How old was I when what?”

Yuri hunched over, his body curled around a large teddy bear Otabek had given him during his last visit to Moscow. He rarely had to explain himself to Otabek, and he’d hoped that this wouldn’t be one of the exceptions. Looked like he was wrong.

“When you presented as an alpha.”

“Oh.” Otabek screwed up his eyes in thought, tracing back the years. It _had_ been a while, Yuri realized. When he’d met Otabek, the older man was already known to be an alpha. “I was fifteen.” The silence stretched on between them, and Otabek’s frown deepened when Yuri didn’t reply. “Are you worried? You know you’ll be an alpha.”

Yuri just further withdrew, ducking his eyes to bury into the soft fabric of the bear. Even though Otabek wasn’t nearby, he still felt like he could faintly smell his friend, and that brought him just the tiniest bit of comfort. “I’m not sure.” His voice was quiet, hesitance showing in his every motion. This was something he’d never confess to anyone else, but when it came to Otabek, it came as naturally as breathing. “It’s taking so long—and I’ve always looked more like my father than my mother. At least, from the pictures, I do.”

Otabek laughed. “Yuri, you don’t need to worry.”

Yet Yuri barreled on, ignoring his friend’s words. “And I’m skinny and feminine—you’ve seen the pictures of the typical omega. I fit the image perfectly.”

“There have been plenty of alphas who have grown into it. You’ll present as an alpha. You’ll see.”

Despite Otabek’s comforting words, Yuri continued to be a blank slate. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and the blond’s eighteenth birthday came and went. Otabek came up to visit once more. Yuri spent the day divided between his two favorite people, the morning going to his grandfather and the afternoon, the hero of Kazakhstan. Otabek left a few days later. Yuri saw him to the airport, and before his friend could pass through the gate, pulled him into a hug. It was a rare gesture of affection between the normally stoic men, but Otabek reciprocated, fully aware of the comfort Yuri needed.

“Don’t worry, Yura,” he said quietly, running his fingers through the blond’s hair. In the years that they’d known each other, Yuri had grown to surpass Otabek’s height, but he still lacked the solid frame of the older man. So, despite the fact that he was taller, he buried his face into Otabek’s shoulder and breathed in deeply. “Being a late bloomer doesn’t mean you won’t be an alpha. You just need to be patient. I’ll see you at Worlds, yeah?”

Patience was never one of Yuri’s virtues, but he thought about it as he watched Otabek disappear through the gates.

Patience. It was uncommon for a skater to be anything but an alpha. People in the limelight needed to exude a certain confidence, one that was lacking in omegas. Still, there were some omegas in the competitive skating world—Katsuki Yuuri was a fair example of one. While his self-assuredness was lacking, his charisma on the ice more than made up for it, allowing him to share the spotlight with other skaters. But Yuri didn’t have the softness needed to make a satisfactory omega. He needed to present as an alpha, to secure his standing among the fans and fellow competitors.

Still, in the month leading up to Worlds, he failed to present. Every morning, he woke up, praying to feel that strength in his bones that indicated his new status. He’d read time and time again what presenting as an alpha felt like. True, it felt different for each person, but he still expected _something._ He was left with nothing at all.

The journey to Worlds passed in a blur, and before he knew it, they were just a few days away from the opening ceremonies. He hadn’t had a chance to see Otabek yet aside from a wave or two in the lobby of the shared hotel, and part of him ached to see his friend. He threw himself into the practices, ignoring the other skaters on the ice. Unlike the GPF, there were more than thirty competitors in men’s skating alone. The time he had on the ice was a precious commodity; he couldn’t afford to waste it.

It was late one night as he headed down to the lobby, searching for a vending machine to fulfill his midnight craving, when he finally ran into Otabek. He spotted the Kazakh from across the room and watched as his face lit up minutely, then made a beeline for him. They met in the middle and spent a long moment just looking at each other, enjoying the silent company of someone who understood them.

Then Otabek’s expression shifted.

“Yura.” His tone caught Yuri off-guard, and the blond frowned. Otabek sounded almost _pained_ by whatever he’d discovered, and his attitude naturally made Yuri take a step closer, wanting nothing more than to alleviate that discomfort.

When Otabek didn’t continue, Yuri broke in. “What?” he asked, panic clear in his voice. Otabek looked torn about something, as if he wasn’t sure whether to be hurt or sad.

“You presented.”

Now it was Yuri’s turn to have a torn expression. He presented? He lifted an arm, trying to subtly smell himself. Funny, he didn’t _feel_ particularly submissive. That must mean he was an alpha, right? “Huh. I always thought being an alpha would feel more… powerful.”

The hurt faded from Otabek’s eyes, and understanding dawned. “You don’t know.”

Yuri shrugged. “I guess I don’t. No one told me anything, and I don’t feel any different.” And none of the omegas smelled particularly delicious to him, but that was also a matter of personal taste. None of them were interesting to him.

But Otabek was shaking his head, taking Yuri’s arm gently and leading him over to a quiet corner. “No one knows your smell quite like I do, so it makes sense that no one else noticed. I did. Yura, you aren’t an alpha.”

Yuri blanched, not quite understanding what he was hearing. “I’m not?”

Otabek shook his head. “And you aren’t an omega, either. You’re a beta.”

There was a long moment of silence before Yuri sunk onto a nearby couch, bringing Otabek down with him. His voice got caught in his throat, and he had to clear it several times to get it to actually work. “You’ve gotta be making a mistake. There’s just… there’s no way. There hasn’t been a beta in my family for generations.”

Even as he got the words out, Otabek cut him off. “No, I know your scent, Yuri—and I know the smell of a beta. Your scent hasn’t changed too much, which is why other people haven’t noticed yet. I… I thought you knew and you just weren’t telling me. I’m sorry.”

A beta. While there was nothing particularly bad about being a beta, there was nothing particularly good, either. Yuri had always promised to be spectacular in everything he did, and betas were the exact opposite; they often faded into the background of life, unnoticed by the masses.

He wasn’t sure if he should cry out of relief for not being an omega or scream out of frustration for not being an alpha.

And then he wondered if it was all a mistake.

“Are you sure?” his voice croaked out, and he was sure Otabek could read the panic in his eyes. Otabek had always been much better at understanding his emotions than vice versa.

Without speaking, the Kazakh pulled Yuri into a tight hug, tucking the blond’s face under his chin. That was the only confirmation he needed. A sob broke out of him, and then another, unable to hold it back anymore.

And Otabek, bless him, held him through it, despite the fact that it was costing them both precious time they could be sleeping. His friend’s discomfort was more important than anything else, and he expressed that through the simple gesture.

It took a while, but Yuri eventually calmed down. He pulled back, wiping sea green eyes and looking more determined than before.

“I’m gonna do it,” he said, and Otabek didn’t bother asking what he meant. He knew Yuri would elaborate. “I’m gonna be the best beta in the history of skating. I’m not going to wane, like everyone expects from my kind. I’ll light everything up   until I make myself unforgettable.”

And Otabek graced him with a rare smile, his thumb brushing against Yuri’s cheek to clear away a missed tear. “I’m sure you will, Yura. You’ll shock the world.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops it's been almost 3 months but here i am writing more. i'm flying blind with a lot of my a/b/o headcanons in this one but like... i couldn't be assed to really do research. if there's anything that's blindingly wrong feel free to tell me!
> 
> not beta'd, as usual. whoops.

Not much changed after the revelation of Yuri’s secondary gender. He performed at Worlds and did as well as expected, dragging himself to the top of the podium with a determined look on his face. The announcers commented on his composure during the complicated pieces, on how focused he’d seemed. Only a few picked up on his seeming weightlessness, as if some problem had been lifted off his shoulders.

If anything, Yuri was glad to be finally removed from the drama of the alpha/omega dynamics. He didn’t have to worry about how he appeared to his opposite, or taking suppressants to avoid unwanted heats or ruts. Suppressants had some nasty side effects for athletes. Non-athletes weren’t as bothered, but when someone’s way of life could be upset by gaining a few pounds, it was a heavier decision to make.

Several fans came to the conclusion that Yuri must have presented in a private setting, and was now taking suppressants to hide whichever it was. Fanboards erupted in speculation, arguing whether the Ice Tiger of Russia was an alpha or an omega. None of them seemed to consider the third option, which suited Yuri just fine. He made no effort to dissuade those theories. During interviews, on the rare occasion when the topic was broached, he made flippant remarks and completely avoided the question, instead resorting to language they couldn’t print.

His conversations with Otabek got easier as well, once he no longer had the frustration of his secondary gender looming over his head. They spoke more frequently, every night speaking until past Otabek’s previous bedtime. Their friendship blossomed until they were something Yuri would call best friends, although he never brought up the subject with Otabek. They just sort of… fell into the relationship.

It was a bright summer day in the height of the off season when Yuri went up for a triple lutz and came down hard. When he stabilized himself after landing, he noted a slight twinge in his left ankle, but brushed it off as something he’d work through. Yakov, however, was not as lenient, and called Yuri over. After roughly tugging off his boot and examining the already-swollen skin, the older man let out an unhappy sigh.

“It’s a sprain,” he said, dropping Yuri’s foot back onto the ground. “Luckily, it’s only grade one. Anything more severe, and you’d be off the ice for a month.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes. “But it isn’t. So I can go back on?”

Yakov shook his head, twisting away from Yuri to yell something at one of the newer skaters he’d taken on after Viktor’s retirement. Yuri was left waiting until Yakov finished, and then he only got a few words. “Your body needs time to heal. No skating for a week.” When Yuri simply gaped at him, not believing what he was saying, Yakov graced him with a harsh glare. “Why are you standing there? Go home, Yuri. I don’t want to see you until you’re healed.”

Yakov fully turned his back on Yuri, indicating the end of the conversation. Yuri let out a quiet noise of indignation and stormed off to the locker room to change, although his dramatic exit was slightly hampered by his careful limp. While he might be a reckless individual, he was very careful when it came to his body.

As soon as he was in his street clothes and back on the streets of St Petersburg, he tugged out his phone, tapping at the screen in frustration. There were several notifications from Instagram, which he ignored, and a Skype message from Otabek. That he opened, smiling down at the picture of baby tigers before refocusing.

 [13:44:23] yplisetsky: hey are you done with practice yet

 [13:45:09] otabekaltin: Yeah, finished up about ten minutes ago.

 [13:45:32] otabekaltin: Won’t Yakov get mad with you for being on your phone during practice?

 [13:45:43] yplisetsky: yeah see that’s the fucking thing

 [13:46:01] yplisetsky: i fucked up a jump and got a mild sprain and yakov banned me from the rink

 [13:46:15] yplisetsky: so now i’m stuck for a week with nothing to do

 [13:46:28] yplisetsky: guess i’ll go visit my grandpa or something

 [13:48:57] otabekaltin: Why don’t you come visit me? I promise we won’t do anything to aggravate your injury.

 [13:49:20] otabekaltin: You can stay on my pull-out couch and I’ll show you around Kazakhstan on my bike.

 [13:49:49] yplisetsky: wait you’d seriously take me in for a week?

 [13:50:01] yplisetsky: that sounds pretty good

 [13:50:39] otabekaltin: Yes, of course. Why does your message read as incredulous?

 [13:51:12] yplisetsky: because you’ve never said anything about me visiting you in kazakhstan before

 [13:51:30] otabekaltin: I didn’t want to interrupt your training schedule. But if you won’t be training for the week anyway…

 [13:51:41] yplisetsky: fuck yeah, beka!

 [13:51:53] yplisetsky: i’m gonna look up flights when i get home

 [13:52:04] otabekaltin: Sounds good. :)

 

Yuri shoved his phone back into his pocket, quickening his pace to as fast as his throbbing ankle would take him. As soon as he got back to his one-bedroom apartment, he threw down his bag and went to his computer.

 

 [14:21:44] yplisetsky: how does a flight that gets me in at 12:20 tomorrow sound?

 [14:24:32] otabekaltin: I can come and get you during my lunch break, so that’s fine.

 [14:24:55] yplisetsky: alright, i’m gonna book it. can i do laundry at your apartment?

 [14:25:19] otabekaltin: There's a machine in the basement. I’ll see you tomorrow.

 [13:25:26] yplisetsky: can’t wait!

 

* * *

  

As soon as Yuri touched down in Almaty, a wave of excitement washed over him. It had been a while since he’d seen Otabek last, and as he collected his baggage from the claim, he kept an eye out for his friend. He thought he was doing a fairly good job, which was why he was caught off guard when someone came up behind him and wrapped him up in a bear hug.

“Beka!” he said between laughs, trying to turn in the embrace. Unfortunately, Otabek took that opportunity to lift Yuri off the ground.

“We have to keep you off your feet, right?” Yuri rolled his eyes and reached down, pinching the underside of his friend’s arm until he was released. Only when his feet were firmly planted once more did he turn around and deliver a firm hug. At that moment, his eye-catching suitcase came down the belt, and he extracted himself to grab it.

Otabek eyed the suitcase and shook his head, but led Yuri out to the parking lot without a word. When they approached a sleek-looking black car, Yuri looked at his friend in confusion.

“When’d you get a car?”

“I borrowed Serik’s,” Otabek replied easily as he unlocked the car. “I figured you’d bring a bag of some kind, and didn’t want to just strap it to the back of my motorcycle.”

It was good thinking. Otabek popped the trunk and Yuri stowed his bag, then climbed into the passenger seat. As Otabek started the car, Yuri took a moment to admire his friend. He still sported the same undercut as always, but the hair on top was shorter, lending him a more adult look. Even though he was well past the stage of growing, it looked like he’d put on a bit of muscle in his shoulders. He was the exact picture of an alpha, and for a moment, Yuri felt a twinge of jealousy before letting it slide. He didn’t care anymore. He’d gotten over it, and he was going to make the most of the situation.

Before he could mope too long, Otabek got him talking. The Kazakh had always been good about extracting stories from the blond, especially about— _ugh—_ Viktor and his antics with Yuuri. Yuri was in the middle of telling him an especially engaging tale about the time Viktor had attempted to cook katsudon when the car came to a stop and Otabek killed the engine.

Yuri stepped out, gazing up at the apartment building before him. It was… pretty damn nice. As he gaped, Otabek retrieved his suitcase and started to head in. It took Yuri a moment to follow at a slower pace, taking care not to aggravate his injury.

Otabek was already inside, heading up the stairs. “Do you need me to carry you, or can you handle them on your own?” he called down when he saw Yuri in the lobby, a delighted glimmer in his eyes.

Yuri scowled. “Fuck off.” It wasn’t exactly eloquent, but he’d been on a plane since he woke up in the morning. All he wanted to do was take a shower and lay down.

Yuri trailed behind Otabek, coming up to the third floor at the same moment that Otabek unlocked a door. He went inside, drinking everything in in an instant. Otabek’s apartment looked a lot like his friend presented himself to be: stoic and sparsely decorated. There were little hints here and there, though, of his hidden depths. A framed picture of him and Yuri, taken a year prior, was set on a bookshelf next to one of Otabek, his brother and sister. Through an open door, Yuri could see Otabek’s bed, with the famous Otabear propped up against his pillows. Yuri smiled faintly to see that the pull-out couch was already set up and sat down.

“I have to go back to practice.” He turned his head to see Otabek standing near the door, scrolling through his phone. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Are you going to be okay?”

Yuri shrugged. “Yeah. I think I’ll just shower, if that’s alright, and then nap.” Otabek nodded.

“That sounds fine. There’s a spare key on the kitchen counter if you want to go out, although Serik and Rina are coming over for dinner tonight, so don’t eat too much if you go out. Rina’s beşbarmaq is delicious.” He smiled, a large, wolfy grin he reserved for talking about his family—or Yuri. “Serik said he was coming over because it was convenient in conjunction to getting his car, but really, it’s to eat her food.”

Yuri made a noise of agreement and waved to Otabek as he left, then lay back on the couch-bed. He’d met Otabek’s siblings during their various Skype conversations in the past, but never in person. He knew this was just their way of scouting out if he was truly worthy of Otabek’s friendship. Zarina, the youngest of the three, was especially protective over her older brother.

After he gathered up his will, he made his way to the bathroom. He honestly hadn’t expected Otabek’s apartment to be this nice. He knew that Otabek did a lot of advertisements in Kazakhstan to sustain his life as a skater, but after years of only seeing a blank wall behind his friend during video conversations, he’d thought it would be a total dump.

He took his shower and changed into sweatpants and a loose shirt, climbing into the bed and immediately falling asleep. Traveling always drained him, especially when he woke up so early to get to the airport.

The sound of the door being unlocked woke him up, and he sat up, rubbing his face. Otabek peeked his head through the barely-opened door and grimaced. “Sorry. I was trying to be quiet.”

“S’ok,” Yuri replied with a yawn. “I needed to wake up anyway, or I’d be up all night.”

Otabek didn’t reply, only going into his room to drop off his bag. Yuri took the opportunity to get up, putting away the couch. If there was going to be company, he didn’t want them to sit where he would be sleeping.

Otabek reappeared after a few minutes and sat on the reformed furniture, rubbing his sore legs. “Rina said she’ll be here around five to start cooking. She’s gonna be bringing everything she needs to make the food. Serik wants me to text him when it’s almost ready, so he can show up without having to do anything.” His eyes sparkled. “I’m planning on texting him a bit early to make him set the table.”

Yuri laughed quietly, marking it up to sibling antics. Being an only child, he wouldn’t exactly understand what the trio had, but Otabek had described their childhood enough for him to have a broad idea. “What are we gonna do until five, then?”

The Kazakh shrugged. “I figured I could show you some of the mixes I’m considering for my next short program. It’s hard to send you stuff that isn’t finished.”

Yuri nodded in thought, then watched as Otabek stood with a groan and got his laptop. They settled in, going through Otabek’s extensive music library and trying to piece together different songs. Otabek had an ear for music mixing, and Yuri thoroughly enjoyed watching him work his magic.

They were deep into a mashup of some classical piece Yuri had never heard before and Paint It Black when a soft knock came at the door. Otabek hauled himself up to answer it and found his younger sister, laden with bags of produce.

“Finally,” she commented with a huff, breezing in and going straight into the kitchen. “I have some more in the car below. Will you go get it for me while I set up?” As Otabek left, she turned to Yuri and gave him a bright grin. “Hey, Yuri. Nice to finally see you in person.”

Yuri couldn’t help but smile back. Even though Zarina was only a year older than him, she had the air of someone who had their shit together. “You too, Zarina. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nope!” She turned her back on him to start pulling out vegetables, covering the counter. “Beka told me that you hurt your ankle, and you’re here to keep off the ice. That means you’ll be sitting on your butt as much as possible. Got it?”

Yuri heaved a sigh and draped himself across the couch. “You’re worse than Otabek. I know my limits!”

She just laughed and waved him off as Otabek returned, carrying what looked like twice the food Zarina had brought up initially. “Are you cooking for twenty?” Yuri teased, eyeing the meat. It was slightly worrying that he couldn’t immediately identify it, but he trusted Zarina.

“I’m cooking for four with leftovers. Someone—” she shot Otabek a glare, and he had the decency to look bashful— “isn’t the best when it comes to feeding guests. I don’t want you to starve when you’re here.”

Yuri snickered at Otabek’s expression and they descended into easy conversation. Otabek acted as Zarina’s assistant, cutting things when she said and otherwise keeping out of her way. She was a whirlwind in the kitchen, always stirring one thing or checking the oven for another. When she announced that dinner would be served in half an hour, Otabek pulled out his phone; within ten minutes, his brother appeared.

Where Otabek was stillness and calm, Serik was the exact opposite. He was full of nervous energy, and even after setting the table, he couldn’t stop moving. He was the perfect picture of an unmated omega, unable to sit still without worrying about being jumped. As they settled down and began to eat (Otabek was correct in his description of Zarina’s food; while Yuri was cautious of each dish, they were all delicious), Serik eventually calmed down enough to tell Yuri embarrassing stories of Otabek’s childhood.

All in all, dinner was fun. Yuri genuinely enjoyed spending time with Otabek’s siblings, despite Serik’s bouncing, and not once was the subject of secondary gender brought up. It seemed that Otabek’s family respected him enough to not question his status. At one point, Zarina’s sweater slipped slightly, and Yuri caught sight of a deep red mark embedded in her shoulder. His eyebrows lifted slightly, but other than that, he didn’t say anything.

He should’ve known that Otabek would notice. They were packing up the leftovers in containers after the siblings left when Otabek brought it up again.

“Zarina took her mate last month.”

Yuri stilled in his packing, shooting Otabek a glance. His friend hadn’t stopped loading up the container. Only the slightest furrow in his brows revealed how deeply he was thinking about it.

“Isn’t she a little… young?” He thought back to Serik, almost twenty-five and still without a mate. Clearly, there wasn’t any familial pressure to find someone.

Otabek shrugged. “She says that she found the one she wants to be with forever, and it’s difficult to argue with her when she sets her mind to something. For what it’s worth, I’ve met her mate. She chose well.”

Yuri completed the task in deep thought, frowning as he thought over Otabek’s family dynamic. Zarina was an alpha; that much was obvious from the way she held herself and how she interacted with other people. Otabek was also an alpha, but his status was portrayed in his quiet confidence. He always seemed to have everything under control. Serik was the lone omega in a family of alphas, and it showed. Even though he was the oldest, he was definitely the runt of the litter.

How did they perceive Yuri? Did they think he was taking suppressants to hide his status, or did they know that he was a beta? As they headed to sleep for the night, Yuri was uncharacteristically silent, only breaking it to ask a simple question.

“Do they know what I am?”

Otabek, in the midst of brushing his teeth, frowned. It was a rather comical sight, and if Yuri wasn’t so intent on getting his answer, he would’ve laughed at the image of Otabek standing in his pajamas with toothpaste foam around his mouth. “Why would they? It’s not my secret to tell.”

Immediately, Yuri felt better. He wasn’t sure why he’d even doubted Otabek in the first place. With a nod, he turned away and headed to the couch to get a good night’s sleep.

They fell into an easy pattern. In the morning, they would wake up around the same time, driven by years of rigorous training, and eat a quick breakfast. Then Otabek would head to practice, and Yuri would either hang out in the apartment or go for a short walk. There was a beautiful park near Otabek’s apartment, and Yuri liked sitting on the bench and just watching the people go by. Once his foot felt a little stronger, he ventured farther, snapping pictures to put on his Instagram after careful editing.

Otabek would come home in the afternoon, and after he located Yuri, they would go for a ride on his bike. Through their rides, Yuri saw more of the countryside, places he could never walk to on his own with his messed-up ankle. Once they returned to Almaty proper, they’d roam the streets of a new neighborhood, simply hanging out and behaving as two friends would. They’d go home when they felt hungry, eat, veg out on the couch to watch a movie or listen to music, and eventually go to bed.

It was comfortable, but more importantly, it was exactly what Yuri needed to heal. Each day, he felt better, and by the fourth, he could put weight on his foot without wincing. On that particular day, Otabek had taken him to a café near his apartment, claiming that Yuri would love the latte art the baristas did. When Yuri received his coffee, complete with the tiger sketched in foam, he grinned and followed Otabek to a table outside.

It was nice to hang out in a country where few people recognized him. When he was in St Petersburg, he had to be constantly on alert for the paparazzi or the Angels. In Almaty, there was only the occasional fan, and they usually recognized Otabek for his advertisements before noticing the lithe blond accompanying him. Yuri sipped his latte, enjoying the flavors, but was snapped out of it when he noticed movement behind Otabek.

Immediately, he felt his eyes narrow in a glare as he recognized a pair of girls. He couldn’t help it; it was instinctual for him to react angrily whenever he saw fans. He forced himself to relax, mindful that he could cause trouble for Otabek by causing a commotion. One of them had a thick scarf wrapped around her neck despite the hot weather, he noticed. Maybe she was sick? He let himself pity her as they approached, glancing between him and his companion.

“Are you Otabek Altin?” The one without a scarf asked, her friend trailing behind her with a nervous hand on the garment.

Otabek gave them a polite smile, and Yuri felt a twinge of pride that he could draw a bigger one out regularly. The girls didn’t seem to mind, however, and tittered for a second. Then the one who hadn’t spoken stepped forward and tugged down her scarf.

The change was instantaneous. There was a _flood_ of heat-induced omega pheromones. While Yuri was a beta, and for the most part unaffected by it, he could still smell the sickly sweet scent that overflowed.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asked as he slammed his hand down on the table. He was torn; on one hand, he was absolutely _livid_ that these girls had disrupted their time together, but on the other, he could see unmated alphas already turning their heads in curiosity. He reached up, tugging her scarf back into place and glaring at her friend. “Get the fuck out of here before you get attacked." The girls both looked at him in surprise. Had they forgotten he was there? Ignoring the twinge of dismay in his stomach, he pushed them both by the shoulder, trying to shoo them on their way. “Get out of public, dipshit. And you—don’t let her pull any more stupid stunts like this, no matter how much you want to be popular.” That’s what it always came down to, after all. A try at fifteen minutes of fame by tempting someone famous.

As they hurried away, the scarfed girl on the verge of tears, he turned back to Otabek with a little laugh. “That was fucking weird, huh?” He’d been approached like that a few times by fans, but never somewhere as public as this. When Otabek took longer than usual to answer, he shot his friend a look and froze.

Otabek had his head in his hands. His breathing was slightly labored, and when Yuri reached out to touch his arm, he jolted. He looked up with panicked eyes, and in an instant, Yuri knew what was happening.

Otabek was going into a rut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually wanted to get further in what i had planned but at the same time this felt like a better ending than what i'd originally written in my outline. there's gonna be at least one more chapter--maybe two, if i decide to split the fluff from the nsfw. because, believe me, explicit material IS on its way. it just might take a while with these boys.


	3. Chapter 3

Yuri wasn’t entirely sure how he got them back to the apartment. He had a vague memory of launching himself at Otabek, dragging the dazed man up from the table and getting him into the building without incident, although they drew a lot of curious looks. As soon as Yuri closed and locked the door behind them, Otabek lurched toward his bedroom and fell face-first onto the mattress. Yuri trailed at a slower pace, looking on worriedly.

“Yura,” Otabek groaned, twisting so he could see his friend’s face. He hadn’t fallen victim to the rut yet, it seemed, if he was still coherent enough to talk. “You should… go. You don’t want to be here when it hits.”

“What?” Yuri made a face, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. I’m not gonna leave you here to make bad decisions. It shouldn’t last too long, right? Without an omega here to fuel the rut, it’ll fade within a few hours.”

Otabek let out a pitiful moan at the thought and returned to his previous position, wallowing in his self-pity. He hadn’t denied Yuri the opportunity to take care of him, which meant that Yuri was stuck here for good. He left Otabek alone for a moment to forage in his kitchen, locating an energy drink and power bar tucked away in a cabinet—most likely for this exact situation. He returned and thrust them under Otabek’s nose.

“Come on. Eat and drink something, or you’re gonna pass out, and I’ll have to take you to the hospital and explain to the doctors that I let you fall unconscious because your _rut was too fucking intense.”_

Otabek snorted but didn’t move. After a moment, Yuri sighed and placed the drink on the nightstand, unwrapping the bar. “I’m gonna start breaking this up on your sheets, and you’ll have to deal with crumbs everywhere until you clean.” He knew Otabek couldn’t sleep on messy sheets—it was his last attempt to get him to eat. He waited a few more seconds before snapping the bar in half, breaking the silence with an audible crack. Immediately, Otabek’s hand shot out, snagging it from him before any lasting damage could be done. Sitting up was a bit more of a struggle for him, but he managed eventually, taking large bites to wolf it down.

It pained Yuri to see Otabek like this. Otabek was usually so careful about his appearance, from the way his jacket sat on his shoulders to how his hair was styled. The only time Yuri had ever seen him in such a state of disarray was directly following one of his programs—when he’d pushed himself to his limits, proud of his performance. He was equally strained now, but there was no satisfaction in his eyes. Instead, he looked mortified to be put in this position.

“Are you sure you don’t want to leave?” Otabek asked, reaching for the drink.

“I’m positive. Let me take care of you, Beka.” Otabek hesitated, then relented, laying back on the bed.

“It’s not going to be pretty,” he warned.

“I know.” He didn’t, not really. He’d read about ruts when he’d thought he might be an alpha, but it was one thing to read about a mind-altering experience and another to witness it. Perhaps his curiosity drove his impulse to be present, but he wouldn’t let Otabek know that. He didn’t want him to feel like some kind of freak show. “Just trust me, okay? I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Otabek nodded, and the faith in his eyes almost made Yuri waver. He held firm, though, settling down on the bed beside Otabek and preparing himself for what would be a fight.

He knew what was to come. Even though the rut would be delayed by the lack of an omega, it was impossible to stop one once it started. He could only ride it out.

He also knew that, because there wasn’t an omega present, Otabek would shift from an alpha’s desire to fuck and instead focus on the territorial aspect. Yuri was immensely glad he wasn’t another alpha; that would just make Otabek even more aggressive.

Otabek’s initial reaction was slow. It seemed like he was trying to hold himself back, to put it off for as long as he could. It was impossible to delay the inevitable, though, and he finally fell into his rut.

As Yuri watched, his breathing sped up, until his chest was rising and falling at a pace that would’ve been concerning under any other circumstances. He lifted his head off the mattress and Yuri was shocked to notice not one flicker of recognition in his gaze. It was like Otabek was an entirely different person.

As soon as Otabek moved, Yuri scrabbled away, stunned by the total change. He wasn’t fast enough, though, and tripped over his own feet on the way down. Yuri had never been particularly clumsy, but when faced with the predator that had taken over his friend’s body, he might as well have had two left feet. He pushed himself up as Otabek approached, only to find himself trapped between the wall and Otabek’s arms.

“Beka,” he started, trying to wiggle his way out of his grip. While he’d been glad earlier to not be an alpha, now he was glad he wasn’t an omega. If he was, he’d be reduced to a sobbing mess, thinking only about Otabek’s cock. And, okay, maybe he was thinking about it now, but that was mostly because Otabek was pressed up against him and he could _feel_ the it against his hip. He cleared his throat and tried again, keeping his gaze down. “Beka, you have to let me go.”

Otabek did not, in fact, let him go. He leaned in, sniffing curiously at Yuri’s neck. Yuri wondered what he could smell. Yuri had been living in Otabek’s space for the past four days; would the smell of Otabek’s life be enough to calm down the alpha, or would it just confuse him?

Yuri took the opportunity to slip away, ducking under one of Otabek’s arms and darting out into the living room. He suddenly saw the purpose of the minimalistic design; there were very few breakable objects. Even the television was sturdy, mounted to the wall to prevent it from accidentally being knocked over. He only had a few seconds to drink it all in before he heard heavy footsteps behind him. He whirled around, barely dodging Otabek’s tackle to prevent himself from being dragged to the ground.

Otabek landed with a thud, and Yuri realized that this was the fighting instincts coming in. He must’ve realized that Yuri wasn’t a proper mate for this situation. Yuri fought back the sting of rejection, instead focusing on keeping Otabek under control. He was pulled to the ground, where they wrestled for a bit until Yuri’s flexibility and superior height came out on top—literally. He perched on Otabek’s back, keeping him pinned to the carpet while he caught his breath. He was just glad that his ankle had almost completely healed already, or this would have been much more difficult.

“Otabek,” he said in between breaths, struggling to keep the alpha under control. “Calm down. It’s me—it’s Yuri.” His name stilled Otabek for a split second, but then the fighting resumed, and Yuri threw his attempts to calm him to the wind.

They continued to writhe on the carpet, neither able to hold the other down for long. Briefly, Yuri mourned the fact that he hadn’t taken his own advice to eat something. At this rate, he was going to be completely exhausted when Otabek’s rut ended.

When Otabek pinned him down at one point, growling low in his throat, Yuri felt a flush of shame that he wasn’t _enough._ If he was an omega, he could provide for Otabek right now, help him through the clearly painful experience that was his rut. Then he got angry. It wasn’t _his_ fault that his biology didn’t line up with what Otabek needed. That fury fueled his wrestling, forcing Otabek back onto the ground.

Yuri had never really been in a fight before. Sure, he’d lashed out at reporters, but that had almost always exclusively been verbally. If this was a fist fight, Otabek would’ve certainly taken him down. But it wasn’t, and Otabek’s mind was too clouded to come up with anything other than the need to dominate. Yuri strategized, coming up with moves on the fly and just doing his best to keep the tiring alpha contained. He would’ve thought that his own energy would be flagging, but the innate desire to protect Otabek kept him going through it all.

Eventually, Otabek’s thrashing weakened, and Yuri heaved a sigh of relief. They were both sweaty messes, covered in bruises and scratches. Yuri just wanted to shower and sleep for the next eternity, but he had to take care of Otabek first.

Otabek let out a groan from where he lay on his back, pinned under Yuri’s strong legs. This groan was different from the ones he’d made earlier; he sounded exhausted as opposed to frustrated.

“Beka?” Yuri asked quietly, leaning over to peer at his face—but keeping his hands firmly planted on Otabek’s back, just in case.

“Yuri,” Otabek replied, his voice rasping in his throat. He sounded utterly destroyed. “Did I… break anything?”

“Nothing’s broken. A bit battered and bruised, but everything’s in one piece.” Yuri stood, keeping a wary eye on Otabek. When he made no move to rise, Yuri lifted him up and steadied him. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got run over by a train.” Otabek patted himself down, checking for anything out of place. Yuri noticed with a sidelong glance that he was still hard, although neither of them addressed it.

Yuri cleared his throat and pressed gently on Otabek’s back, guiding him toward the bathroom. “You should clean off. Do you, uh, need any help with that?” Realizing that he hadn’t specified and that his words could be misconstrued, he rushed on. “With, uh, with showering. You look kinda dead on your feet.”

Otabek shook his head, taking a step forward, away from Yuri’s hand. “Could you get me some sweatpants from my bureau? I don’t want to get back into these clothes.” He picked at his shirt, now hanging poorly on his frame from how much Yuri pulled on it.

“Yeah, I’ll just toss it through the door while you’re showering.” Yuri retreated, going into Otabek’s bedroom while his friend closed the bathroom door behind him. He waited until he could hear the water going before opening the door just a crack to toss in the sweatpants, then got to work heating up the last of Zarina’s leftovers. It was the thought of Otabek’s sister that made him pull out his phone, searching through his Facebook contacts. She’d added him after one of their Skype encounters, and while they’d never talked before, he’d liked a few of her posts about her cat. He opened up the currently empty chatlog and hesitated, before tapping out a quick message.

 

**Yuri Plisetsky**

            so otabek went into a rut today 

 

He set down his phone, returning to the food. Zarina still hadn’t replied by the time Otabek got out of the shower, only a pair of sweatpants low-slung over his hips. Either he’d taken care of his rather prominent problem, or simply willed it away. Yuri steered him to the table and set the leftovers in front of him, then went to take a shower of his own.

As he stood under the water, letting his sore muscles relax, he finally started to decompress. He’d had several revelations while wrestling Otabek, and he definitely didn’t have time to untangle his thoughts now. He had to keep up a firm exterior for his friend’s sake.

He got out of the shower, feeling significantly better, and changed into fresh clothing. Out in the dining room, he found Otabek holding several takeout menus, a guilty expression on his face. He looked up when Yuri coughed lightly.

“I ate everything and was still hungry, so I was planning on ordering something. What do you want?”

Yuri shrugged and went to his phone, lifting an eyebrow at the sight of a new message. He was about to open it up when he realized that Otabek expected a response. “Oh, uh, I don’t know. Pizza?” It seemed like a safe choice.

Otabek nodded and pulled out his own cellphone, tapping at the screen. Once he was sure that Otabek was thoroughly distracted, Yuri pulled up the messenger app.

 

**Zarina Altin**

            Oh, my god.

            Is he okay?

 

**Yuri Plisetsky**

            yeah, he’s fine. i got him home before any damage could be done and kept him here

            just… is there anything else i should be doing?

 

**Zarina Altin**

            Make sure he eats and drinks a lot.

            I’m assuming that there wasn’t an omega present, right?

 

**Yuri Plisetsky**

            yeah, it was just me. we wrestled a bunch until he got over it

 

**Zarina Altin**

            Poor Beka.

            Going into a rut without an omega around is so stressful.

            Keep his mind off of it, he probably feels like a brainless alpha.

            He also probably won’t be able to go to practice tomorrow.

            Let his coach know for him, okay?

 

**Yuri Plisetsky**

            yeah, i’ll text him from otabek’s phone later

            thanks zarina

 

**Zarina Altin**

            Of course! Let me know if you need anything else.

 

Yuri shut off his phone, sliding it back into his pocket with a heavy sigh. After taking a moment to compose himself, he turned back to Otabek and steered him over to the couch. They ate pizza, Yuri watching Otabek like a hawk to ensure he had his share. Yuri dug up some film series in Kazakh, and while he’d never heard of it, the way the covers were worn implied that they were much-beloved by his friend. Halfway through the first one, Otabek was knocked out, curled up over the armrest with the Otabear tucked under one arm. Yuri let him sleep.

He woke up the next morning with a painful crick in his back and spent several minutes just stretching. Otabek was still sleeping, a surprisingly calm look on his face, so Yuri busied himself with cleaning up the mess from the previous day. By the time he was finished, Otabek was also working out his own kinks, looking around the apartment with somber eyes.

“Everything _hurts,”_ Yuri moaned dramatically, draping himself over the couch. His intent had been lightening the mood, but based on the way Otabek’s gaze fell on him guiltily, he missed the mark.

“I’m really sorry about that, Yura,” he said quietly, perching on the edge of the couch like a nervous bird. Yuri wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Otabek look so _fidgety,_ his fingers constantly twisting over each other. “I should be able to control myself better.”

“You can’t help your nature.” Yuri waved him off, shifting his legs so Otabek could sit more comfortable. Whether it was because he didn’t notice or he didn’t want to, Otabek stayed where he was.

“I don’t want to just be my nature,” he said, glancing at Yuri before frowning. Yuri knew what he saw; there was a bruise blossoming on his cheekbone, one of many that decorated his body. He hadn’t thought much of it, but obviously, it weighed on Otabek more than Yuri had anticipated. “I _hurt_ you.”

He reached out, placing a hand gingerly on Yuri’s jaw and tilting his head into the light. What he saw didn’t please him, judging by the stormy look in his eye. Yuri scoffed, ignoring the way his touch sent pings of pain and excitement through his cheek, and rolled his eyes.

“I hurt you, too. If you weren’t made of so much damn _muscle_ I would’ve left more of a dent.” He accentuated his words with a little jab to Otabek’s stomach, simultaneously wrenching himself away from his hand. Otabek let him go, although he still looked frustrated.

_This must be why Zarina wanted me to keep his mind off of it,_ Yuri thought, narrowing his eyes in thought before turning them back to the TV. Leaving the apartment was definitely out of the question, which meant that they would have to find another way to entertain themselves.

“Why don’t we keep watching that series from last night?” he offered, standing and going to the television to start the movie over. Clearly, neither of them had watched much of it. “It looked interesting.”

“Really?” For a moment, Yuri felt a twinge of guilt about lying. He really didn’t care one way or another about the damn movie series—he couldn’t even understand what the actors were saying most of the time—but seeing that look of excitement on Otabek’s face told him he made the right decision. He nodded, and Otabek grinned. “I’m glad you liked it. It’s one of my favorites.”

“I’ll put it on and make you something to eat, okay?” Yuri hit play, stepping back to ensure that it actually _would_ start before heading toward the kitchen. “Just relax. I’ll be right back.”

Their day passed in quiet companionship. Other than Otabek softly explaining the main points of the series, they didn’t say much, which was fine by Yuri. He was honestly exhausted by the impromptu wrestling match and had one too many revelations on his mind to think about. While he definitely wouldn’t tell Otabek, he was a bit relieved to be heading home the following day. He’d had enough of this vacation. It was time to go back to work.

The next morning, Otabek borrowed Serik’s car again and drove Yuri to the airport. He’d made the executive decision to take another day off of practice, and Yuri made him _promise_ to not sit around and pity himself. At least it allowed them to have a lengthy goodbye near security. After a moment’s hesitation, Otabek wrapped Yuri up in a tight hug, tucking his face into his taller friend’s neck. While Yuri had grown past Otabek’s height, there was still a significant difference in bulk. _It must be an alpha thing_ , Yuri realized as he returned the embrace, _to make me feel so small and frail._ Otabek’s hands trailed up his back, coming to a halt in the space between his shoulder blades. For a long moment, they just stood there, letting the flow of the airport pass them.

“I’m sorry for ruining your vacation.” Otabek finally broke the silence, and Yuri found himself rolling his eyes again.

“I’m telling you, you didn’t. Believe it or not, Beka, I _like_ spending time with you, whether that’s out exploring Almaty or holed up in your apartment.” Yuri squeezed him tight and released, pulling back. He saw a flash of something in Otabek’s eyes, but it was gone before Yuri could work out what would cause his friend to wear an expression of anguish mixed with joy. “Next time, you’ll come and visit me in Russia, and I’ll keep you away from any omegas in heat. Okay?”

A smile ghosted across Otabek’s lips, and he nodded. They exchanged goodbyes along with one final, firm hug, and then Yuri disappeared through security to find his plane.

He had a lot of thinking to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't usually.... write fight scenes so this felt kinda clunky. still, it demanded to be written, so here we are. this is going a lot slower than i anticipated so i might end up writing a bunch more chapters? we'll see.
> 
> comments and critiques are loved! let me know what y'all think.


End file.
